The Meaning of Life

So it had been a stressful day and in the classroom, all the discussions were lingering around suicidal attempts made by students when suddenly one of my friend jested "I would never do that. Who would like starting over from nurseries back!" It was funny a dido for then. But it gave me matter to ponder over. Do we really have a next chance? Can we rise back from dust just to set the wrongs or rights done by us in our pasts?

We've been told throughout our childhood about afterlife. But how much sense does it make when subjected to rational thought. Isn't it more of an entailment deduced from pointless opinions? There is something infantile in the presumption that somebody else has the responsibility to give to your life, meaning and point. The truly adult view, by contrast is that our life is as meaningful and wonderful as we chose to make it. By all means let's be open minded, but not so open minded that our brains drop out. Those ridiculously fatal arguements seems to be depriving all our Biology of its worth. Some complicated organism who've been thinking that they're alive for a reason is what all our Bioligy is subjected to and then we cross it for our intuitions! Shifting the burdens from one life to another will not make any difference ever. We must not kid ourselves that we're going to live again after we're dead, we're not. Realizing we're not contagious to dust is fine. It gives one an opportunity to live this life to its full potential. Won't it be sad to go to your grave without ever wondering why you were born? Who, with such a thought, would not spring out of his bed eager to resume discovering the world and rejoicing to be part of it.